Last night, I went to throw away my rubbish. I opened up the skip and threw in the bag. At that hour, there’s no one around, and it’s cool, so I decided to take a stroll.
I took the long way home. Some streetlamps had blown, and I walked in darkness for long stretches. For some reason, I suspected I was being followed.
I stopped in my tracks and looked round. My rubbish bag lay perfectly still a few yards behind me. I guessed it must have been a trick of the light, so I let it go and carried on walking.
But a few minutes later, I felt something bumping into my ankles. I thought it was a cat, and I looked down to avoid stepping on it.
And there, at my feet, was my rubbish bag. I picked it up and walked back to the skip. I told myself I must have experienced some sort of Deja-vu.
But on my way back home, I heard some shuffling behind me. Within seconds, my rubbish bag came careering round the corner towards me.
I started running, but it caught up with me, hurtling by my side, as if mocking me. I stopped to catch my breath, and my rubbish bag began circling me.
Another rubbish bag appeared out of the darkness. It was smaller and swifter. It bumped into mine and sped off. My rubbish bag rolled after it.
I don’t know what happened to it after that.
I’m just glad it never found its way home.